


Institution

by dr_zook



Category: Bible (New Testament), The Bible
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drugs, Foucault, M/M, bedlam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt was: <i>Lucifer/Jeshua: 2010, that love and peace thing... well, people aren't so appreciative. Jeshua manages to land himself in an institution, and Lucifer stops by offering comfort.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Institution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liriaen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liriaen/gifts).



Outside's mild late summer wind isn't weaving itself softly through the pastel coloured curtains, which frame the high windows. The glass is double-layered, and the casements are blown open, pointing outwards. Away from the bright patio, away from the neatly trimmed English lawn.

But the windows are closed shut.

.:.

"I told you so. You're nuts." He crosses his legs and leans back, his arms are stretched out on the back rest behind him. Like measuring the space he takes up with his potent presence. "I told you to watch out," he adds.

His black mane is braided, and baring a ghastly scar that starts at his left collarbone and draws a red circle around his neck. Disappearing somewhere between his scapulae. Below the stiff collar of his shirt.

The visiting room is meant to soothe nervous minds. The minds of visitors, the minds of the inhabitants. The inmates.

A plain blanket is thrown over Jeshua's thighs, whose gaze isn't very spirited. His eyes seem to be veiled; they aren't flashing any hints of wit. His mirth and generosity aren't tangible at all. Maybe gone or well hidden? Lucifer isn't sure.

"Since when do you apply for seeing me?" Jeshua's voice is small and defeated. The healthily tanned skin of his hands are utter mockery amongst this clean sterility. As if he had been outside during the bygone months.

The fingers are agitated, grasp and grind against each other. Pluck at the blanket spread over his legs. Eventually they lay down splayed. Like Jeshua must force them to be still.

"You're my first visitor."

"Yeah, maybe officially." Lucifer extracts a smoke out of his breast pocket. "I seriously doubt the mere possibility of another visitor, rabbi. Did anybody else sign up for today?" He acts like searching the room for visitors who aren't there.

His sarcasm cannot dissect the glaring void between himself and Jeshua. The stifling room makes him sick, and it's not only because of the tang of the tuberoses blooming on the low table between them.

"You aren't allowed to smoke here," Jeshua gently reminds him, and folds the hands in his lap.

"You're serious," Lucifer observes. Then: "Are you allowed to take a walk with me?" He nods towards the garden, the meticulously raked gravel. Outside.

Jeshua's dull, grey eyes find his visitor's. "Actually... I don't know," he whispers rather to himself.

"Do you want to?" Lucifer can't compel himself to bring him down.

.:.

He remembers him, some weeks ago. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his cell. His forearms gliding against each other slackly, the straps keeping them parallel and in place. Sedated.

And bound. Bound, bound and tied. Pressed against the ground. Caught inside this institution, this body, trapped and enduring. Thinking, he breathed and prayed. Both inseparable, of course.

He prayed aloud. Or with a low and brittle voice. Often without words at all. Jeshua didn't care whether the guards were watching him.

.:.

Sometimes Lucifer was there. Laughing, first. Then as a spectator and silent. Amused and cloyed.

Raging.

Tired.

Tucked sleeping Jeshua's hair behind his ear, careful not to slaver all over his straightjacket.

"The ships aren't sailing to Geel anymore, Lord."

Then he adjourned back to his corner.

Guarding.

In silence.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Waste That Was To Be](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7714768) by [dr_zook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook)




End file.
